


My Unintended Choice

by Lokesenna



Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fingerfucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokesenna/pseuds/Lokesenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a small miracle for Loki to see just what he has...</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Unintended Choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Batsutousai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/gifts), [Alate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alate/gifts).



> Writing the current PrincelySecrets/ PrancerLoon SL on Twitter gave me feels... and it inspired this. I didn't beta it because two of the people I gift this to are the ones who usually do so for me... I hope it isn't all too terrible. See? I can do sweet! (I think) All the love! x

    Loki pulls his left knee closer to his chest and turns his face into the pillow.

    Open, yet hiding; hiding all of his life, never able to _be_ open before now.

    Not like this.

    Not like with Thomas.  
  
    His Thomas… his _Tom_.

    The blond's finger slides in and out of Loki’s ass with a slow, steady rhythm. Just the way he likes it, craves it, needs it.

    It is all he had ever needed or wanted.

    A finger, just like this, filling him just enough, building his arousal at a measured pace.  
  
    Loki breathes shallowly, relaxed and focused on those few inches of his body that are being stimulated.

    Perfectly stimulated.

    Tom is so incredibly good at this. He is the best.  
  
    But then Tom knows exactly what Loki wants, which no one else ever had. Because Loki can’t  _tell_  anyone else. He can’t ask for  _what_  he wants, let alone give them instructions on how to do it just right, with a straight finger, no crooking or twisting, no speeding up. Just in and out, nice and easy, making Loki’s rectum pulse around it and his untouched cock throb and grow.  
  
    Sigyn had fingered him sometimes, but she had not realized how important it is and she never kept it up for long. Other times, while he was fucking her, The raven sometimes took her hand and placed it on his rear, but she would squeeze him or scratch once or twice, not knowing what he wants, or if she did know, not caring to oblige. Why would she want to, really? If she wouldn’t enjoy it, why would she want to do it, even though Loki conversely enjoyed fucking her when it was not what he wanted. It was what a god does, and after all.  
  
    A god does other things, too, when necessary. With other men. Men who have a reason to stick their fingers up Loki’s ass. To them it was just the prep for the real thing, but to the trickster it was the closest he ever came to _the real thing_. With a man Loki could say, “Slower,” could show how good it was making him feel, could say, “Just keep doing that a little longer.” Up to a certain point.  
  
    But one finger was inevitably followed by two, which is good in its own way but not Loki’s way, and ultimately they would fuck him, which was not always bad and sometimes Loki could even come from that, but it was not the kind of languorous orgasm he longed for. He could not even enjoy the immediate aftermath of coming, because those were the moments that revealed whether or not he had wound up with the type of man who wants to kiss and cuddle, so Loki had to focus on getting up and out of there as quickly as he could.  
  
    Nothing against kissing and cuddling, no reflection on those men to be inferred; Loki had always loved cuddling with Sigyn, with or without sex. Kissing men before sex was just part of the program, part of the seduction, a sort of necessary evil that was not really all that bad. Kissing men after sex was for gays, which Loki was not.  
  
    He does not know what he is, but he knows he is not gay. Queer, maybe. Not so queer that he could not love and make love to a woman, but queer enough that he walks the realms and knows he is different from the multitudes. Queer enough that he has to hide his queerness, because who can be trusted with knowing it?  
  
    Then he met Tom, who turned out to be queer in his own ways, although Loki certainly would not have guessed that when he met him. But even before he promised not to kill him, Loki sensed that Tom might be a little in love with him. Afterwards, he was positive. What now? He certainly did not find Tom unappealing and he… yes… he trusts him entirely. He had been sharing things with Tom almost from the beginning; it had come naturally. If he could share this secret, if Tom could give him what he wants, Loki knows he could give Tom whatever it was sexually that  _he_  wanted most. It would not be a burden, it would be a fair exchange.  
  
    But a relationship with Tom would be wrong on so many levels, not least of which was the fact that he could not fall in love with Tom in return. A mortal. Who would die before ever he could find true happiness. No. That part would not be fair at all, so Loki backed away. And what happened? Thomas apparently got the message, but he did not move on, did not turn to someone else, did not  _get a damn life_. No, the blond leaves the plane of existence, ripping out Loki’s heart and guts in the process.  
  
    It was more than enough to make Loki see that even if he could not exactly be queer for Tom, he could love him deeply and to hel with the rest of the universe. It is enough to make the raven act once he has gotten Tom back, back for eternity with the help of Iðunn and her golden apples.

    From there, love guides them both, stumbling and cringing, through declarations and surprising revelations and even more surprisingly simple negotiations and brings them to a place of harmony which neither of them has ever expected to achieve individually. They simply fit together.  
  
    Loki loves Tom and when the time is right, the sex will follow. The Asgardian way. Slowly. Queerness meshes cozily with the slow act of love, and sometimes the queerest thing of all - to Loki - is that fate has somehow conspired to bring this unlikely union about. It can almost be enough to restore his trust in the Norns, except that most likely it had been them, in fact, who had started the whole thing.  
  
    Involuntarily, the god chuckles into the pillow.  
  
    Tom’s finger pauses for a second and then continues its steady thrust. “Darling... did you think of something funny, or are you just happy?”  
  
    Warmth suffuses the trickster god’s chest. He turns his face and looks past his shoulder. “ _You_ make me happy.”  
  
    Tom’s teal eyes fill with delight and his nose crinkles when he smiles. “Awh, my Peach… you make me happy, too.”  
  
    Loki turns back to the pillow, hiding his own smile. He feels a touch on his hip, a chaste kiss. He closes his eyes and dreamily floats, both anchored and lifted by the gentle power of Tom’s finger, arousal humming quietly through his body, rippling along his veins, sinking into his bones.

    Oh Tom.

    He is all he will ever want or need.


End file.
